Scandal
by SinfulIndulgence
Summary: When it comes to the ghosts of her past, Annabeth's solution is to run away. But when her informants end up as corpses, she finds running away no longer an option. As an investigative journalist, Annabeth knows she must connect the dots before she becomes the next one to end up dead. But what can be more dangerous than trusting a certain green eyed special agent?
1. Prologue

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

"Luke, stop it, I'm serious."

Annabeth pushed her boyfriend off of her. Luke's body was much heavier than hers, and it took her a few moments of squirming to push him off. Usually, when she felt something was going too far and she expressed that thought, he listened. Annabeth's intuition tingled. Something felt severely off today.

_"Luke." _She warned. Her grey eyes flashed the classic Annabeth glare that she had become infamous in her high school for.

Luke rolled his blue eyes as he disentangled himself from her limbs. "Come on Annabeth, it's only a little bit of kissing. And judging from the noises you were making, I'd say you quite enjoyed it." His golden eyebrows waggled up and down as he shot her a meaningful glance.

Annabeth held back the urge to throttle Luke. For all his seventeen years of age, Luke Castellan was still a hormone-driven teenage boy with one hand stuck up her bra. No wonder girls matured faster than boys.

Granted, she wasn't much better, with her pulling off his shirt willingly, at least for the first ten minutes. Although they had done much more inappropriate things that would have made her mother send her off to military boot camp, or even worse, to her father's, Annabeth was not in the mood for any further shenanigans. Especially when she had given her boyfriend so many warnings, and he'd ignored them. Her eyes wandered anxiously to the flashing lights of the car's dashboard.

"It's nearly past ten, Luke. You know what my mom is like when I break my curfew. She thinks we're going to a museum, not sucking each other's face off. I was supposed to be home by 9:30 pm, and I told you we needed to leave at 9:15!"

"Oh, we've definitely sucked more than each other's faces tonight, you know." Luke winked, the handsome kind that always made other females weak in the knees. They used to have that same effect on her, but now it only made her feel exasperation.

"Which I said had to end before 9:30 pm," Annabeth said, with no enthusiasm at all. "Please, back to my house, now, Luke."

Luke groaned and settled himself back in the front seat. "Always the goody goody, aren't we, Annabeth?"

"Not this again, Luke."

Annabeth forced down the urge to roll her eyes. Sure, she was a star student, but she hated being reminded by Luke of that status every time. The goody-goody, the nerd, the shy, introverted girl who never took risks. Unfortunately, Annabeth was never one to say no to challenges, and her pride had fallen to Luke's goading far too many times to do things she never would have even considered. Enough was enough.

And now, she was going to be caught.

Athena, her mother, was just like her namesake. A former military sergeant and current Federal Bureau of Investigation agent, Athena kept a rigorous routine in her life. Wake up at 6:00 am, bed at 10:30 pm. Those strict routines also applied to Annabeth. Even after Athena's honorable discharge from the military, she still carried that commanding presence. Her mother had an innate ability to strike fear into anyone's eyes, including Annabeth.

Annabeth quickly rearranged her clothing back to tip-top shape. Annabeth would say that they got lost going to the museum. Traffic was terrible or something to that effect.

"Fine then. Whatever," Luke scowled. He stared straight through the windshield, not even glancing at her.

The car zoomed along the hilly streets of San Francisco in silence, with Annabeth fuming beside him. She thought that after capturing the attention of one of the school's most handsome student and getting accepted into her top schools in the Bay Area, nothing in her life could go wrong. It was that teenage way of thinking, those elated false emotions of invincibility.

But her relationship with Luke was volatile, unpredictable at best. Luke's behavior tonight had proven he enjoyed the physical side of their relationship far more than he preferred the emotional side. There were even times when, did she dare say it, she wanted to end things before the relationship became too toxic for the both of them.

Annabeth sighed internally. What did Luke even like about her?

Luke stepped on the accelerator just as Annabeth closed the passenger side door. The car sped off, vanishing soon in the distance into the night. As far as she could tell, he never looked back.

When Annabeth opened the door to her Edwardian-style house that night, that should have been the moment for her to get the hell out. She should never have stepped foot past the threshold that night. Never.

The lights should have alerted her. For one, they were all off. Athena always kept the lights on for her daughter. Now her eyes were stuck trying to get used to the dark shadows licking at the corners of the furniture.

Maybe the alarm should have been the slow drip drop sounds of water leaking from the kitchen faucet. Athena Olympian was just too perfect to not close the faucet properly. The house was always maintained immaculately, with any problems fixed within the day and by Athena herself.

Or perhaps it was the blinds being drawn down. Her mom and she would of course pull them down at night, but not if Athena was waiting for Annabeth to come home.

She shouldn't have stepped inside the house but she did, putting her keys on the counter as she shuffled her sneakers off her feet. Her hand flicked the light switch, and she squinted her eyes to prepare for the glare of the light. No change. Annabeth turned the switch on and off again, but no light appeared.

Strange.

"Mom, is the electricity off?" Annabeth called out.

But the neighbor's house had lights turned on, she recalled. As Ms. Rhea often came by to trade plant clippings with her mother, through their conversations Annabeth bet their neighbors were watching an episode of _Friends_ again. The raucous sounds of the studio audience members laughing were so loud that Annabeth could hear them from her driveway.

"I'm sorry about being late. I lost track of time with Luke. I know, it's stupid of me, and I won't do it again. Honestly, I-I think I'm going to break up with him."

But she was met with silence. Silence was worse than the quiet anger in her mom's words. Gods, her mom must be the angriest she had ever been.

She stepped on something sticky when she turned the corner from the hallway to the living room.

Then someone was screaming, screaming as if her life depended on it. How strange. The screams sounded like they were coming from her mouth but she had no way of stopping them.

"Now what is with the screaming, young lady? I thought you had more sense than to, oh shit-" The gruff voice shut up quickly.

Annabeth barely registered the shadows of someone blocking the light from the front doorway behind her. Ms. Rhea's husband grabbed her by the arm, trying to pull her out of the house.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Ms. Rhea called. "Is that Annabeth, I hear?"

"No, don't look!"

But it was too late. Annabeth's eyes had already fallen onto the scene that would forever be branded into her mind.

For her mom lay sprawled on the carpeted living room, lying in a pool of her own congealed blood.

But it was those grey eyes that traumatized Annabeth the most. The same grey eyes Annabeth had inherited.

They were open and lifeless, staring right at her, with the scorching black mark of a scythe branded on her right cheek.

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A/N: So welcome to my new story! It will definitely have some very dark themes to it. If you love mystery and romance, then buckle up, kiddos, this author is gonna take you for a ride.

Feel free to discuss your theories in the reviews. Isn't it satisfying when your theory is correct? The main plot of this story has been completed from start to finish, but because this story isn't completely written like How to Seduce an Earl, my updates may not be as regular as that story was. See you next chapter, my lovelies~


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Any name similarities or relation to actual events is pure coincidence, though I'm pretty sure there have been no New York State senators (different than US Senators) named Macquire, at least not currently.

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**Chapter 1**

Lights flashed in the conference room. The family stayed poised in front of the multitude of news cameras.

It was supposed to be Addison Macquire's biggest day. Everything had been going accordingly to plan.

He was rerunning for his New York State senator seat and was the top candidate once again. His wife, Lauren, was the textbook definition of elegance; the perfect, charismatic wife with her graying but impeccably coiffed hair and smart suits. His teenage son and daughter, similarly dressed, were fresh and beaming in their private school uniforms. The textbook definition of a picture perfect family.

Senator Macquire hid a smile. An easy snatch for the seat. Once he was reelected, he would plan on taking his political campaign to bigger heights. Maybe a US House of Representative, or even go for the US Senate. Maybe in two decades, he could even go for, well, dare he say it, the White House.

Or so he believed.

A tremor of gasps and surprise spread throughout the room. The sea of journalists parted as a young blonde woman strode to the front.

There was no doubt about the confidence exuding from the woman, from the tips of her plain black pumps to the swaying of her ponytail. Macquire couldn't help but wince as the woman's steely gaze landed on him, sharp as a blade.

The woman extended a microphone in her hand towards him. To the New York State Senator, it might as well be the smoking gun that ended his career.

"Senator Macquire, is it true that you are having an affair with Mrs. Monica Macquire, your brother Adamson Macquire's wife?"

A confused but excited murmur rushed through the room. Cameras flashed and clicked in a flurry and the volume on microphones and tape recorders were adjusted to full blast.

"What are you talking about?" The tone of Senator Macquire's voice was both accusatory and full of incredulity. But the normally larger-than-life persona he had been portraying began to crack. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

The blonde ignored his questions and continued her questions coolly, leveling his furious gaze with her unflinching gray eyes. "There is video of you and Mrs. Monica Macquire entering a hotel in Miami on September 19th, hand in hand. Both of you emerged from the hotel five hours later. Hotel employees such as the front desk, maid, and concierge all gave testimonies that they saw you and Mrs. Monica Macquire enter the same hotel room. Is there a special reason that the two of you would need to confer in the same room?"

Senator Macquire's wife, Lauren, turned to her husband with fury on her face.

"Your words are completely insulting. I can't believe my rival candidates have sent a journalist on a smear campaign! I will sue you and whoever is behind you for slander, you hear me?" Addison Macquire adjusted his tie nervously. "I am completely devoted to my wife, Lauren, who has worked tirelessly to support me and my campaign."

Macquire moved to put his arm around his wife's shoulders, but Lauren stepped back, as though her husband's touch was that of a cockroach.

"Oh my god, it's true, isn't it?"

No one had expected his daughter to talk, who had always been like a Barbie doll. Someone only instructed to only look pretty and never speak.

"I thought I saw you with Aunt Monica in your office. A-and she had her shirt off and you had your pants down..." The daughter was horrified.

"What? Oh honey, that was your mother and I. I know most children don't like to think of their parents as having done the 'deed' as most kids would say, right?" The Senator's attempt at humor with the journalists fell flat.

"Mom's blonde and the woman in your office had brown hair." His daughter insisted.

"Aunt Monica's a brunette," his son said, stunned.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is clearly a misunderstanding." Senator Macquire was starting to show signs of strain. "Let me explain."

"Addison, not again." This time it was his wife. "You _promised_." Those two words from the elegant lady were full of venom.

The crowd murmured at the insinuation that the senator had committed adultery before. When a politician could not be trusted with his familial obligations, how could his faithfulness to the state be trusted?

All of a sudden, Senator Macquire's carefully constructed world came crashing down like the ruins of a sand castle. He stared at the woman who had started the havoc of his destroyed life. "You! Who are you? You will pay for this!"

"The name is Annabeth Chase, and I am a freelance investigative reporter."

Some of the other journalists murmured in surprise. Annabeth Chase was a rising star in the field of investigative reporting from the moment she had graduated from the Masters of Journalism program at University of California, Berkeley. A talented and patient freelancer, she had investigated topics of corruption among tech companies, the unfair treatment of children in a large and well-known orphanage, and the illegal dumping of chemicals in drinking water.

She had a story out only once or twice a year, but when her reports came out, big waves were made in the world. Waves big enough to cause changes on policy to affect millions of lives.

And today, she had caused the downfall of a budding politician by airing his oh-so-dirty laundry on live television. The other reporters and television networks were lapping up every moment, although some reprimanded themselves for not breaking the story first.

Annabeth seemed unaffected as she continued her damning words. "You will find that the New York Times has an exclusive, about not only your adultery but of your embezzlement in Mrs. Monica Macquire's New York based charities, with Mrs. Monica Macquire's help as an accomplice. A total of three and a half million dollars were taken from the two charities Love for Animals and Healthy Children. Do you care to comment?"

"My lawyers will be speaking to you." The senator seethed.

"I believe your lawyers will want to have a discussion with the FBI first. They have some questions as to where that three and a half million dollars went." Annabeth shot back. "Coincidentally, there happens to be an offshore account containing exactly that same amount."

"H-how did you?"

Annabeth smiled coldly. "Good day, Senator Macquire."

With those final words, Annabeth turned on her heels and walked away. Before Senator Macquire could do or say something, the other reporters swarmed in like sharks in a feeding frenzy. The last thing he saw was her swaying blonde hair before it faded into the flashing of the cameras.

* * *

"_New York State __Senator Addison Macquire arrested for embezzlement. Monica Macquire flees the country and is wanted for questioning,"_ her apartment mate read out from her computer screen. "Well, congratulations, Annabeth, you've done it again."

"Not bad, eh?" Annabeth clinked her wineglass with Thalia's. "Worth every damn all-nighter I pulled for this report."

"Hmm, maybe you'll win a Pulitzer Prize!" Thalia exclaimed.

"Hah, that's just wishful thinking." Annabeth snorted, putting down her wineglass. "It'll be years until then, and that's just fine with me for right now. I'm in no rush."

Thalia grinned and flopped down on the couch next to Annabeth. The white liquid in her wineglass sloshed but Thalia didn't seem to care about the dangers of staining her couch. As the daughter of a CEO and the lead singer of popular punk band Huntresses of Artemis, Thalia could afford a new couch. Annabeth on her meager salary supplemented by freelancing and reduced rent in Thalia's two bedroom NY apartment, could not afford such recklessness, even if her stories broke headlines. It would be years before she could earn the prestige of her predecessors such as Diane Sawyers and Anderson Cooper, to name a few. She eyed Thalia's wineglass carefully.

"What say we celebrate by going out tonight?" Thalia offered as she took a swig of her wine. "A hot new club just opened downtown. It's called The Underworld. Sounds like a fun time, right?"

Annabeth gave Thalia an exasperated but amused grin. "I've heard of that. Isn't there a $5000 annual membership fee?"

Five thousand dollars for a membership fee was insane. Annabeth felt guilty whenever she ordered a triple shot caramel macchiato with a pump of hazelnut at Starbucks instead of drinking the instant coffee they had at home.

The Underworld was the newest and hippest dancing lounge catered towards the wealthy. So far, many celebrities had been spotted vomiting their brains out as well as business people blowing their hard earned money on expensive alcohol.

"No worries, Annabeth. My uncle Hades is an investor so I already get free entrance. I'm allowed to invite a few guests. It'll be good for you to have fun and celebrate your achievements. So what do you say?"

Annabeth shrugged. Loud noises and flashing lights were never her favorite. Not since then.

Flashing lights and wailing sirens used to give her bad anxiety, especially when the sounds of wailing ambulances and police sirens came rumbling down the streets. That day had been so long ago yet still so fresh in her mind. Medication gave her nasty side effects. Therapy helped the most. Now, she rarely had panic attacks.

Was going to the club a good idea? It had taken nearly a decade for her to put up the walls of a normal life. All of her hard work and attempts at normalcy could crumble again.

She shuffled into the kitchen and washed her empty wineglass. Drip, drip, went the faucet. Annabeth turned the knob quickly. Leaky faucets was something else she couldn't stand. No, not after that fateful night.

There was a whole slew of little ticks that started after the night of her mother's murder. She couldn't stand the darkness for one. Carpeted floors in her apartment was a big no-no. White wines were preferred over red. And the constant need to keep her mind occupied like a workaholic was another. If Annabeth didn't conform to those ticks, the demons would return. The demons that forced her to confront the dots that seemed to connect about her mother's murder.

The police had told her that a thief had broken into the apartment just thirty minutes prior to Annabeth's entry, not expecting her mother to be inside. Cabinets and drawers in the upstairs bedrooms were ransacked, and all her mother's jewelry were taken. The television had been too big to steal, but both her and her mother's laptops vanished. If Annabeth had been inside that night, it was likely the thief could have harmed her as well. Wasn't she fortunate that night, the detectives had commented.

But something about the cops' all too willingness to shut down the case so quickly gave Annabeth the shivers. Like her mother, Annabeth had a very logical sense. Even to this day, both her intuition and logic had told her from the very start that some of the pieces did not match.

For example, it was too early in the night for any attempted robberies. Not that she was an expert in home robberies, but didn't most occur during the dear early hours or while the owners were on vacation? The neighbors were still awake, for gods' sakes. Not to mention that her mother should have fought any attackers off. Granted, the robbers had guns, and as far as Annabeth knew, Athena disapproved of keeping a gun in the house. Less danger for you, Athena had said to her daughter.

Every little bit of logic seemed warped. But for what reasoning could the police have for mismanaging her mother's case? Annabeth could come up with none other than for the secrecy of Athena's work. But the policemen would never let her mother's files be open, citing that it was not her jurisdiction but the FBI's, who were even more strict with their red tapes and bureaucracy.

So what had Annabeth done? Fled to the East Coast to her father and stepfamily. Transitioned from Athena's perfect daughter to her father's normal, never seen a murder, daughter. It took time and therapy, but her life was fine.

Absolutely fine.

Annabeth's hand trembled as she put away the wineglass. Coward, she reprimanded herself. She always ran away. Always.

She needed to get out of the apartment. Out of the darkness that threatened to invade when she closed her eyes as her mind tried to work out all the tangles of how her mother was killed.

Usually she kept all those demons at bay by being a workaholic. Her story on Senator Macquire was finished, and there were no plans for the next story. And her only plans for the night was perhaps watch the news and attempt to knock herself out with a few melatonin pills. Sleep without it only brought nightmares that plagued her with guilt.

Maybe Thalia was right about getting out of the apartment and trying to have some fun. Besides, what was a better place than expanding her social circle with influential people who could get her the next scoop?

Annabeth turned to Thalia with a grin.

"I'm in."

Little did she know how much trouble those two words would get her in.

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A/N: Hey, my peeps, how y'all liking this story so far?

So, this time period will be difficult for me to have steady updates for a while. Rest assured, I will be back, with a maximum break of 6-7 weeks. See you next update!


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

Percy glanced over at a couple of businessmen who were talking to each other in hushed whispers.

His cousin, Nico, passed over a mug of beer, the foam just barely overflowing. "Here you go."

Percy muttered his thanks as he took the fancy German beer. The mug of liquid amber with the soft white foam was rather tempting. Every so often, he kept the men in his side peripheral. Even when wearing those fancy Italian suits and black ties, those men gave off an air as being out of place in the club.

"They're not even trying to be subtle." Nico complained lowly so only Percy could hear.

"I know, it's like they have big signs saying 'I'm suspicious' hanging over their heads."

"Must be first timers."

One of the men, the one with curly hair, swept his eyes in Percy's direction, and Percy stilled instinctively. But the suspect looked away, seemingly not noticing anything was off.

Maybe he was still jumpy from the time he served as a Marine.

Percy looked down at the foamy beer he was pretending to sip. Pity it was a waste, this fine barrel aged beer. No drinking on the job after all. The icy cold mug only served as a prop for blending into one's surroundings.

A long time had passed since he had any of the devil's juice, as his mom would call it. His first stepfather had been a perpetual drunkard, and Percy had learned quickly of the dark side of alcoholism when his body began sporting black and blue bruises.

Maybe that was why he left home right after high school graduation to join the Marines. That and perhaps his dyslexia, ADHD, and bad school record due to a horrible home environment left him with no other chances at a decent college that would support him. Percy was sorry to leave his loving mother behind, but she would be well taken care of by his high school English teacher as her new husband.

Gabe Ugliano (seriously, even his last name was a bright red flag), his first stepfather, had always cursed Percy out, threatening to put Percy into military school whenever he rebelled. How ironic did life turn out to be?

So off to boot camp and training he went willingly. Six years in active service, with two years in reserves, and him getting a college degree after all, in criminal justice. Percy was still a rookie investigator on an initial probation, but his time in the military had helped him gain an edge in experience, especially when listening to his intuition.

It was that intuition that saved both his and his comrades' lives when they entered enemy territory on a scouting mission.

Nico was blabbering about his new hot neighbor who happened to be a doctor ("Brains and beauty in one," Nico sighed) while Percy's eyes browsed the dancing scene as he listened. The flashing lights triggered his past memories.

It had been a particularly blistering day three years ago. With the heavy gear and camouflage in addition to the dusty environment, everyone in the platoon was weary. Tempers ran as high as the scorching sun. Sweat was running down foreheads, mixing with grimy dust and getting into eyes. Any decent trained soldier might have let his or her guard down for just a few seconds. Just a few seconds might be the difference between life and death.

Despite his tiredness, Percy had felt every fiber of his being on high alert. They were in enemy territory, observing any movements. So far there had been none.

But there was danger in the stillness. Danger that would cause demise with just one false step.

In a millisecond, Percy had seen a glint in the harsh sunlight. Just a thin wire discreet enough for an unsuspecting or unobservant person to step through.

He had yelled stop, but his body was already moving before the words ever left his mouth. Heavy gear be damned, Percy half-tackled, half-pulled his lieutenant from stepping on the wire. For one glorious moment, he thought they had cleared it. Then he felt a thin wire graze against his boots.

"Percy. You all right?" Nico asked sharply.

Percy tossed his head, shaking himself off from his memories. The bass from the EDM music got louder. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Nico didn't look convinced, his fine Italian features showing his concern.

"The bass in the EDM music is just a little too loud for my ears," Percy excused. _Oh gods_, he thought. _I sound like a cranky old man. _

"Ugh, shitty music, right? Panic! at the Disco would be so much better than this crap."

Percy let Nico ramble on. It was better to let his cousin do that, and would be better for the two detectives to blend in.

Nico understood him more than most, perhaps almost as much as his mom and his best friend, Grover. But Percy just wanted the rest of the world to stop treating him like he was a ticking bomb.

Well, it was whatever. He gave up trying to explain to others. What was the point of trying if everyone just believed what they liked? It had nothing to do with him.

Percy glanced back at the two men at the other end of the bar counter he had been scouting earlier for the mission. They'd been whispering to each other for quite some time now.

It wasn't that two men sitting together at a bar was suspicious, or else he and Nico would be blaring alarms just as well. But most people wouldn't look so tense or on edge. In the past half hour or so since Percy and Nico had sat there, the targets had nervously nursed two whiskeys and some shots of tequila, while their eyes swept the large room filled with dancing people and the mingled smells of sweat and alcohol.

Despite the marketing of The Underworld as a hip excursion for the rich and wealthy, Percy knew that there was a streak of seedy darkness hidden underneath the flashy lights and fancy decor. It was that same kind of darkness found in the alleyways of the shady New York neighborhoods he had grew up under the reign of Gabe. Drugs were abused by all social classes after all. For instance, the two targets today were wealthy investors and worked on Wall Street.

But just knowing that their target were buying and using cocaine wasn't enough. Who was supplying the substance?

For weeks, Percy's precinct had seen a sudden rise in the rates of overdosing, with the discovery that a new form of cocaine had flooded the black markets. This cocaine wasn't pure but cut with a new chemical that was intensifying the addiction, feeding into a positive feedback cycle where the victims had no choice to buy more and more to satisfy their bodies' craving. And the only people who could financially afford such a vicious cycle was the wealthy.

Federal science labs were scrambling to deduce the identity of this new chemical. Meanwhile, the wealthy were using their influence to lobby and pressure the FBI and police to curb the drugs, seeing as their demographic was being targeted. Personally Percy felt that it would be far more logical for the wealthy to prevent their own substance abuse than to put the blame on the police. How disgustingly hypocritical of the wealthy to suddenly care about substance abuse when they were targeted, only to turn blind eyes to the victims of the lower social classes.

Arresting a few people with substance abuse problems only nipped at the buds. They had to tackle the root of the problem.

So here he was, undercover with Nico as they were assigned the task to find out where the source of the drug was and who were the suppliers.

A woman with curly blonde hair passed by the targets. A few moments passed, and the targets stood up from their spots. One strode off into the midst of the crowd while the other followed the blonde woman in the same direction.

Percy and Nico passed a glance between them before nonchalantly picking and following a target. Nico weaved into the dance floor, swaying on the pretense of dancing as he followed the taller target. In just a few moments, Percy could hardly tell where Nico was. His cousin always had a talent for blending into the shadows.

Percy trailed his eyes onto his suspect. The woman disappeared behind what seemed like a hallway. Just a few moments later so did his target. Percy counted ten seconds of pause before tailing after.

The long hallway was mostly empty and quite dark save for a few torch lights that lined the walls. Padded carpet hid the sound of his uncomfortable leather shoes as he walked down the path.

Ahead of him was the blonde woman who stood near one of two doors at the end of the hallway. Suddenly she turned around, making direct contact at Percy.

In the dim light, Percy could just barely make out the light gray color of her eyes. It was the hard, unflinching gaze of a woman who wary of the world and the dangers that came with it. One that asked and demanded an answer to the question of why he was following her.

She was actually quite pretty with her blonde ponytail accenting the curves of her neck, but her simple black dress suggested that she preferred camouflage to standing out. One hand was placed on the female restroom door and the other hand clenched in a fist that suggested she wasn't afraid to throw a few punches if threatened.

All this Percy assessed in the span of a couple seconds, training drilled into him to assess whether someone was an enemy or not.

"Excuse me, just need to use the restroom." Percy said politely.

The young woman's eyes softened just a fraction and shifted so Percy could easily open the door to the other restroom designated for males.

Elegance was the word that popped into Percy's mind when his eyes adjusted to the surroundings. If public restrooms could be described as elegant.

The Underworld's restroom was divided into two fairly large rooms, one that hid the porcelain thrones of urinals and stalls and the other with massive mirrors and comfy armchairs of all things. He almost felt insulted since this restroom was far fancier than that of his barely usable restroom in his studio. Percy doubted this restroom would have cranky pipes that always threatened to burst should anyone flushed.

But those were just the fine details. The restroom was empty save for one drunk party goer at the end of one stall.

So where had his target gone?

There were no other doors in the male restroom nor the hallway. Percy flicked open the stall doors, as if checking none of the stalls hid a secret entrance, Harry Potter-style. Nothing.

No other choices but to step outside. The restroom was perfumed with some expensive-smelling cologne, and the cloying smell was making his eyes water.

On the opposite side of the male restroom, a few giggly women emerged from the female restroom. They sent a few coy glances at Percy underneath their spidery lashes before they passed him by.

Percy doubted his target would have walked into the women's bathroom. There must be another doorway or Percy was just shit at his tracking job.

He walked slowly back to the main club room, wondering if there was any deliberate significance to the dark hallway. The light was dim enough that a door could be cleverly concealed.

Percy paused somewhere in the middle of the hallway. There was just the slightest bit of scuffing at the carpet towards the right of his feet. In the low lights and the rush towards the restrooms, it would be hard to see the just barely noticeable wear on the carpet.

He stretched his hand towards the walls, letting his fingers feel the smoothness of the wallpaper. The coolness of the paper flowed at his fingertips until they grazed a thin line where the smoothness was interrupted. Bingo.

The door was cleverly hidden with the wallpaper matching up to cover the outlines of the door.

But it would be foolish to enter through the doorway right now without some more recon. Who knew what was behind this door? He could be rushing into danger without any form of backup plans. Their months of work would be wasted and all for the want of a little patience.

Percy noted the door in his mind. Hopefully Nico had better luck with his target.

* * *

A/N: I don't wanna study :/ so that's why I am procrastinating by writing another chapter of this. LOL

See ya'll next time~


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

The coldness of the water over her hands was especially refreshing compared to the heated atmosphere of the main club room. Annabeth wiped her hands dry on a paper towel, careful to turn off the faucet so that not one drop leaked.

Her reflection stared back at her in the restroom mirror. She looked foreign to herself, despite having seen the same face every day for the past twenty seven years.

It was a face dressed up for battle. Eye bags covered up by concealer. Grey eyes made to just subtly stand out with some brown eyeshadow and eye liner. Just enough makeup to form a mask from the outside world.

It hid the fear that had risen up in her throat when she thought she was being followed by the dark haired man. Thankfully, it was another false alarm when the man just brushed past her to head into the male bathroom.

There was something familiar about the way the man moved. He seemed to have walked with a purpose (perhaps the goal of making it to the restroom from drinking too much alcohol?), his posture straight and shoulders carrying a commanding sense. A military man. Her mom had walked with that same authoritative presence.

Whatever. It was none of her business, anyways.

The restroom was much quieter than the main room. Surprisingly the loud noises weren't as bad as Annabeth had feared. This level of stimulation was fine, at least for a little while.

The amount of social interaction was just about to push her limits over though. Thalia had dragged her around the club, introducing her to all sorts of interesting characters. It made Annabeth realize just how small her social circle was while Thalia's was as wide as the sky.

There was Leo Valdez, an up and coming engineer with a mischievous face. Annabeth had seen his face in Forbes' 30 under 30 list. Then there were two of the daughters of fashion designer and supermodel Aphrodite McLean, each from a separate marriage. Silena Beauregard was a model and daughter of a famous French chocolatier. Piper McLean, whom Annabeth had briefly seen during a charity dinner she wrote a piece on, was still running an animal charity and taking on the occasional television role, following the steps of her actor father. There was apparently another daughter, but..."She doesn't like to hang with us," Thalia sniffed. And the rest were all socialites or influential people in the world of politics, economics, and more.

All in all, Annabeth now had a wealth of people and topics she could choose to write her next journalistic piece on. But she had no interest in exposing about the torrid love scandals of the rich. True journalism was about having substance. But perhaps she could do a piece on discrimination in the modeling workforce or explore the dynamics of people of color in the STEM workforce.

Feeling much better with the quiet atmosphere of the restroom, Annabeth steeled her nerves and prepared to walk back into the battlefield of the rich and famous.

* * *

_Two months later_

Annabeth's fingers hovered over her keyboard. Should she focus on the piece about big pharma or prepare more research regarding the nutrition of American school meals?

_Ring! La-lala!_

Annabeth's eyes fell onto her phone as her ringtone disrupted her concentration. She frowned, brushing a piece of wayward hair from her face. Usually she kept her phone on silent while she worked.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Annabeth!" Thalia's voice ran cheerfully.

"Wait, this isn't your phone number, Thals." Annabeth stared suspiciously at the unfamiliar number.

"I know, I know, I tripped on the stairs this morning while I was holding my phone and eating pizza. I saved the pizza but not my freaking phone, can you believe it? The screen is all shattered."

"I guess that explains why you decided to leave a note on the fridge instead of texting or calling me."

Annabeth stared at the blue Post-It stuck under a palm tree magnet. Thalia had just left their apartment this morning to be on a four month tour with the Huntresses of the Artemis.

"Sorry, Annabeth! It was a last minute thing, or else I would have told you waaay ahead of time." Thalia whined through the other end of the phone. "I know I'm forgetful at times, but I'm not that inconsiderate, I swear!"

The corners of Annabeth's lips quirked up. Classic Thalia. "I know, I know. So like what, your cousin is staying with us for a while?"

"Yeah, it's just for a little bit. My cousin's apartment got flooded. I've already paid my share of rent, so I promise it won't be too much trouble!"

"How long?"

"Hmm, I don't really know how long it'll take for my cousin's apartment to be fixed. But a couple weeks?"

Annabeth bit her lip. She'd never liked sharing her living space, not even during college. Thalia was an exception, somehow bypassing all the guards Annabeth had put up.

"I'm sorry, Annie, I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't know my cousin would probably end up on the streets or something. And there's no way a hotel would be in the budget in the long term. Oops, my flight's going to be in the air. Bye, love you, Annie!"

"Wait, Thalia!"

But her roommate had already hung up.

Annabeth sighed. She just wanted to know when Thalia's cousin would arrive so she could prepare to not walk around like a slob. She stared at the kitchen table, where she liked to do her work instead of the desk in her room. Time to clean up all the granola bar wrappers strewn around the table.

_Ring! La-lala!_

Annabeth picked up the phone, expecting Thalia to have forgotten to tell her something.

"Hello?" Annabeth answered.

"I-is this Annabeth?" The female voice at the other end asked hesitantly.

Huh. This voice was familiar.

"Is this Silena?"

"Yes, hi Annabeth. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I asked for your phone number from Thalia."

"It's all right. You're not disturbing me. What can I do for you?"

Annabeth had met Silena a few times since Thalia had first introduced them. Despite being born with a silver spoon in her mouth, Silena was always sweet and charming. Her pleasant voice was usually soft and confident. But now Silena sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"Is everything okay, Silena?"

"Yeah...it's just...You said you were a journalist, right?"

Annabeth felt her ears perk up, her journalistic tingle one could say. A story sounded like it was brewing.

"Yes, that's correct."

She could hear Silena take a few steady breaths as if calming herself down.

"C-could we meet? There's something I have to tell you."

Annabeth looked at the clock. The hour hand stood unwavering at 11pm. "Um, it's a bit late in the night. Would tomorrow morning be okay?"

"I-it's super important. Please."

Annabeth bit her lips. Something felt wrong here. Silena sounded like she was particularly shaken up. Annabeth could hear the sounds of papers being shuffled and a door being opened. Maybe she could catch the last train and hop on an Uber or Lyft back, though she hated to be outside at night.

"Yes, tomorrow's fine." Silena's voice suddenly changed tones. "Good night."

"Wait, Silena!"

But it was too late and all Annabeth could hear was the empty silence coming from her phone.

* * *

Percy muffled a yawn as he tossed his empty coffee cup into a garbage can. It was an early morning, but talking to this potential witness was crucial.

He strode up the finely manicured lawn to the picturesque house. A faint breeze rustled the drying autumn leaves, signaling the upcoming winter. Percy's boots crunched over the brown leaves, noting the dry fountains and flower beds. Yeesh, the fees for maintaining the front lawn alone must be around his monthly rent. And he didn't even want to estimate the cost of the house itself, if one could call it a house. It looked more like a mansion with its three floors and glass windows.

But then he started noticing the disarray of the mansion. There were far too many leaves on the lawn. The flower beds were starting to be overrun with weeds, struggling to survive in the cold. Wouldn't someone wealthy as Silena Beauregard care about the state of her home?

And he was not the only one to call on Ms. Beauregard, apparently.

A blonde woman in a brown sweater was standing at the front door, her foot tapping nervously. She appeared to ring the doorbell. With no apparent response, the woman reached into her purse for her phone and dialed someone.

"Good morning." Percy called as he approached.

The woman whirled around. So much for trying not to startle her.

Percy's eyes took in the tanned female stranger. Where had he seen her before? The defensive stance the woman had immediately adopted, the guarded look in her steely eyes. Ah, yes, wasn't she the woman in the black dress he had met in the hallway at the Underworld? What business did she have with the model and heiress?

"Good morning." The woman replied. "Did you need something?"

The female took one step back from him. Her right foot was facing back, most likely favoring her right foot for strength. It was a self defense pose if he had ever seen one.

"I'm here to meet with Ms. Silena Beauregard. Is she not in today?" Percy said. He tried to make his posture as non-threatening as possible. His eyes tried to say he meant no harm.

"She's supposed to be." She replied back slowly.

"Ah, you have a meeting with her?"

"Yes," came the curt reply. "And I suppose you don't have an appointment with her." Her grey eyes probed him accusingly.

"No, I don't." He supposed it was time to pull out the big guns. Percy pulled his wallet and displayed the badge to her. "I'm Percy Jackson, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

The woman stepped forward to inspect the badge carefully as if it was a fake. Deeming its authenticity, she stepped back, but some of her defensiveness seemed to have lessened. "Perseus, like the Greek hero." Her tone was slightly amused.

Percy winced. "Yeah, but I prefer Percy. And you are?"

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase."

Now his eyebrows went up. And here she was making fun of his unusual name when she had quite an unique one as well.

"Well, Agent Jackson, is Silena in trouble?"

"Not that I know of. May I ask what you're meeting Ms. Beauregard for, Ms. Chase?" Percy's intuition shifted uncomfortably. This simple routine follow-up on a witness was starting to feel like something bigger. He pulled out his notebook and pen.

Annabeth's eyes turned to her phone. "I'm not sure either. Silena called me late last night to see if I can meet her, but since it was so late, we switched to this morning. But she's not answering her phone or the doorbell."

Annabeth turned from him and starting walking away.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

He followed her as she peered into the windows of the first floor. Apparently seeing nothing, Annabeth went around the perimeter to check each window.

"You know this might be trespassing?"

Annabeth seemed to not hear anything he said, so Percy ended up following her. In the dim morning light, he could just make out the outlines of furniture inside the mansion. Everything was dark and eerily silent.

Suddenly, Annabeth stumbled back. Her legs crumpled beneath her as she collapsed onto her knees.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

He rushed to her side. Something was seriously wrong. Annabeth's face was drained of color, her eyes widened in fear. No words came from her open mouth. She didn't even seem to notice him kneeling at her side, just staring in horror back at the house.

With dread, Percy looked through the window she had been peering out. Everything seemed to still, including his heartbeat.

Silena Beauregard was perched on an armchair, staring straight at them. There was something unearthly beautiful and elegant about the way she sat on the chair, as if posing for a pictorial for a fashion magazine. But her lovely brown eyes were open and lifeless.

Her doe-like eyes would never see another thing in the world, not with the trickles of dark blood covering her angelic face.

* * *

A/N: How is everyone? Hope you all are staying happy and healthy from the virus!

Meanwhile, all I want is to buy some toilet paper...not to stock up but to actually have some because we're running out...grrr you selfish people at the grocery store, you don't need 50 rolls of toilet paper...the virus doesn't cause diarrhea...

Anyways, in my self-quarantine, I've been reading way too many isekai webtoons and manga...I wanna write one now, too!


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy! Warning for mature or triggering scenes, just in case.

* * *

Police cars and flashing blue and red lights lit up the weak morning sunlight. Feet scuffled on the gravel as police bustled around yellow tape. But none of the sounds and movement seemed to completely register in the young woman's mind.

Percy handed Annabeth a paper cup of water. "Are you feeling better?"

Annabeth took the proffered cup. "Thanks."

Her color was looking a lot better, with none of that sickly white paleness she had earlier. Percy understood how Annabeth felt. His time as a Navy SEAL had taught him that.

The look of death. The somber realization that the body had become nothing but a former shell of itself.

Percy tossed his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. There was a murderer on their hands.

He walked into the mansion, carefully bending over the yellow tape covering the doorway. The mansion was elegantly decorated, befitting that of a young wealthy socialite. So who had wanted her dead? A jealous lover? A robbery gone unlucky?

But there was something wrong with the house. Percy wrinkled his nose at the slightly dank smell before he sneezed. There was an inordinate amount of dust, with a sheen of grey covering a table nearby. Not to mention, it was unbearably hot in the room. Percy peeled off his leather jacket and blue scarf.

Soon he arrived to the body. Now that he was inside the house, he could see much clearer the scene of the crime. A bottle of wine was on the table, and another one was on the floor. He stepped carefully over the empty bottle of chardonnay.

"Hey Hazel. How's it going?"

The coroner turned to him, her cinnamon brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Same old, same old. Another day, another dead body," she said cheerfully.

Perhaps a little too cheerfully.

If someone had asked him what he thought a coroner should look like, Percy would have guessed someone the exact opposite of Hazel Levesque. Perhaps a somber introvert, someone who preferred the company of the dead versus the living. But most definitely not a young woman with soft brown eyes and wild curls. She looked like she popped out straight of a fairy tale as the sweet, shy protagonist.

"How's your morning going, Percy?"

Percy waved vaguely to the crime scene. "This is what's going on about my morning. So, what can you make of this?" Percy nodded to the covered up body. Hazel's assistant, Frank, took pictures of any clues found in the living room.

Hazel swabbed at a blood spot that had splattered onto the armchair that poor Ms. Beauregard had been sitting on. "Well, judging by the angle and the velocity of the blood splatter, it appears that our victim may have shot herself in the head."

"The gun?"

"In her hand. I'll send it in for ballistic matching to the bullet in her head."

Percy frowned. "You said may have. Why is that?"

Hazel paused and pursed her lips. "Well, for one, look at these empty bottles of wine. Our victim smells exactly like the wine. But upon closer inspection, the wine exudes from her clothes like somebody deliberately doused her with some wine."

"So it was made to look like our victim was drinking. Doesn't seem like a robbery case any more then."

Hazel shook her head. "No. Judging by the rigor mortis of the body, time of death was last night. I'd say around ten to the early wee morning hours? I'd like to give a more close estimate but the body has started decomposing because of the heating."

"So our perpetrator tried to sabotage the corpse." Percy sighed. "Shit." So much for a simple follow up to a potential witness. He was starting to have a nagging suspicion.

"Yeah, someone planned this out carefully. There's no cameras in our victim's house and the security alarms weren't set off. In fact, the alarms were on."

Something caught Percy's eye. "Perhaps not too carefully."

Walking carefully as to not disturb the crime scene, Percy went over to the small table by the armchair. There was a partially filled wineglass with a pink lipstick imprint on its rim, no doubt matching the victim's lipstick. But it wasn't the wineglass that Percy was interested in.

On the dusty table appeared to the imprint of another wineglass. Frank moved to take a picture of the dusty print.

"There's no second wineglass, Hazel." Frank said. "I'll go to the kitchen and see if I can find another glass that matches this one. The prints are probably wiped down though."

"Well, we can at least hope," said Hazel optimistically.

Two NYPD officer came by, one taking off his jacket. "Whew, it's hot in here."

"Uh, I know right. Shame, really. I follow Silena Beauregard on Instagram. She hadn't posted for three weeks."

The red haired officer shook his head. "Guess she never will now."

"Yeah, I heard she had some sort of depression or something."

Pieces of the puzzle in Percy's mind were trying to connect. If he hadn't talked to Hazel, he might have thought Ms. Beauregard had taken her own life, perhaps as a result of her depressive symptoms, if the rumors were true. But it appeared that someone else was with her, someone she knew since the alarms weren't set off. Perhaps someone close enough that he or she could even reset the alarm. Or was it when they left that Silena took her own life? Or was there a murderer who willingly watched as Silena ended her life? Was this connected to the drug laundering case?

There were too many maybes, too many perhaps. He would have to wait until the official results of the autopsy to come out.

There was something that was bothering Percy though. The young woman who had been waiting to meet with Silena. Hadn't she said that Silena had called her last night to meet with her?

"Hey, do you know if they found the victim's phone?" Percy asked Hazel.

"Her cellphone?" Hazel looked around. "I haven't seen one around. I'll keep an eye out for it though."

"Great, thanks."

Well, in the meanwhile, they could request for cellphone records.

Walking back outside, Percy saw Annabeth Chase back where he had left her, still leaning against a police car. Her head was bent down, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders. Was she scribbling down something?

"If you're feeling better, Ms. Chase, I'd like to ask you some questions regarding your meeting with Silena Beauregard." He opened up his notebook.

Annabeth nodded grimly. But before he could ask anything, she cleared her throat and read out aloud from her own small pocket notebook she had been apparently been writing on earlier.

"According to my phone record, Silena called me at 11:21pm last night. She said wanted to meet and said it was important to tell me something, but since it was late, we moved it to this morning."

Percy looked at her.

"I'm a journalist." She explained. "Used to writing down the facts I know."

"Ah."

A journalist was unexpected. With her demeanor and straight posture, Percy would have thought Annabeth was a businesswoman or something. Maybe a capable assistant or a fashion magazine executive who came to Ms. Beauregard to negotiate a contract with the model.

Percy thought for a moment. Could Silena want to tell Annabeth about something that she wanted Annabeth to expose using her career as a journalist? "How did you know Ms. Beuregard?"

"I was introduced to her by my roommate. We met a couple times but only with other friends. She was always friendly."

"Were you two close?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Yesterday night was the first time she called me, and the first interaction alone. I can't possibly think what she would want to tell me."

Perhaps, just perhaps, came his inner voice. Maybe whatever secret the gorgeous model wanted to tell the journalist was enough to get her killed.

"So may I ask why did you want to talk to Silena, Officer?" Annabeth asked. Percy swore he could see gears turning in her head.

"Routine follow-up." Percy gave his blandest reply. No one, especially a journalist, should know about the drug investigation after all. "Do you know if Ms. Beauregard was with someone when she called you?"

The distraction worked. Annabeth furrowed her brows. "I didn't hear the sound of another person's voice." Suddenly her eyes lit up. "Ah, there was something I heard through the phone call. She sounded really shaken last night. I think she was going to say something more but I heard a sound like a door was being opened. Then she suddenly ended our call. I tried calling back but she didn't answer."

If Silena had called Annabeth at 11:21pm, that put her time of death at around the time Hazel had estimated. And the sound of the door opening meant someone else was in the house with her.

"I should have gone to meet her," Annabeth grimaced.

"No. That would have been a bad idea." Percy immediately said.

"Why? Don't you think that-oh." Her grey eyes widened.

Percy couldn't hide the grimace on his face.

Had Annabeth gone to meet Silena Beauregard last night, there might have been an extra body in the mansion.

* * *

Annabeth watched as people loaded a white cloth covered body into the back of an ambulance.

"Ah shit!"

One of the men wheeling the body tripped on the gravel. For a brief moment, Annabeth saw it. She straightened immediately, eyes in disbelief.

The man's momentum had jerked the gurney, allowing a slim arm to dislodge. But it wasn't the arm that had shaken her. It was the thin silver charm bracelet on the body's arm.

"Do you have your cellphone with you? I don't have a business card on me."

Annabeth wrenched her gaze from what she had just seen. "What? Oh here." She handed it to him unfocusedly. But the body had disappeared into the ambulance.

"Here." Percy handed her her cellphone back after he inputted his number. "Please don't hesitate me to call me if you recall any more information."

"O-of course."

She struggled to keep her composure straight as she got into her Uber. As the driver sped off into New York traffic, she felt her heartbeat quicken once more.

Breathe, she told herself. Breathe. You've worked so hard to get where you are, she scolded. Don't let an incident like this get you down.

But try as she might, Annabeth couldn't get the image of Silena' lost eyes out of her mind like they were seared into her brain. Nor could she forget the silver bracelet she had seen on Silena's arm.

For years, Annabeth had convinced herself that what she had seen on her mother's body was just a result of her warped memories. Flashbulb memory, her therapist had said. Sometimes in a heated emotional moment, memories can become distorted. Her therapist had tried for many sessions to convince her that the scythe mark on her mother's body did not exist. The police had so. So did her father. Even Annabeth had told herself many times that she was just experiencing a rush of emotions that night.

But the thin scythe charm on Silena's arm brought back the memory of that night. It was a perfect fit. The same shape, nearly the same size.

It was just a coincidence...right?

* * *

The clock was ticking into the wee hours of the night when Annabeth turned off her laptop. The living room was plunged into darkness except for the austere moonlight filtering through the windows.

She stretched, yawning as exhaustion finally took over. It was rare for her to feel sleepy as insomnia often took her prisoner unless she took melatonin. The morning's events had tired her obviously.

Annabeth shivered. Now that there was no work to distract her, her thoughts turned to the morning's events.

Her fingers flew up to her temple. Had she gone to Silena's place that night, who knew what could have happened. Not to mention that reappearance of the scythe shape...

Annabeth closed her eyes. This morning Officer Jackson had told the other policemen that she was a witness, so the others didn't disturb her as much. It was to her advantage that she was able to observe and hear the conversations that had been going on. She'd been able to gather the details of Silena's death before it could be announced by the press. No doubt that the powerful McLean and Beauregard families would tamp down the media as much as possible.

Death by a self-inflicted bullet? One of the rumors was that Silena had been showing depression. Annabeth hadn't met Silena many times, so it was possible. But it didn't account for the fact that there appeared to be another person with her that night. Someone who knew the mansion's security code, and someone who Silena was familiar with enough to not arouse too much alarm when she called Annabeth last night. Annabeth knew Silena lived alone, but didn't she have a boyfriend? Or perhaps her family?

Her heartbeat was starting to rise as scenarios whirled in her mind. She was beginning to have trouble breathing again.

Maybe a drink of water would cool her down. Annabeth headed to the kitchen.

Then she heard the sounds. The feet scuffling right outside in the hallway leading to the apartment. The kitchen was close to the door.

Annabeth nervously thought about how the second person that night in Silena's mansion. What if the murderer found that Annabeth was the last person Silena had called? If he or she thought Silena had told Annabeth something important, something worth being killed for...

There was nowhere to hide in the kitchen, and she doubted she could fit into the cabinets.

Annabeth quietly lifted the biggest frying pan in the kitchen. She had no experience with knife fighting, and knives could be easily used against her. They would be a backup choice. Meanwhile, her fingers were on her cellphone, with 911 ready to be dialed.

Something like keys jingled, and the door opened.

Her heartbeat rose. Thalia had just left yesterday morning and wasn't due for months. Who could it be, entering the apartment this late at night? The new roommate?

The shadow stepped into the hallway.

* * *

A/N: I guess I should have put up a warning beforehand. This story is rated M not only because of mature scenes but also because there may be some gory scenes. Forgive me for the late warning! But anyways, hope you all are liking this story so far!


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

Percy ignored the soreness in his body as he lugged his suitcase in the hallway. After the morning's troubling events, a scolding by his supervisors for not getting to the witness earlier followed by mountains of paperwork, all he wanted to do was just collapse in his bed and let sleep take him on its waves. But of course, his apartment had to flood two days ago, and his cousin hadn't told him when he could move in to her place until repairs were finished. He couldn't even crash at his buddy's studio apartment because Jason had a new date over. Curse the Grace siblings.

Great. What a fantastic day.

He fumbled with his keys, trying to find the one Thalia had sent him. Was it the small bronze one or the copper looking one?

Finally the door opened into the darkness of the apartment. Thalia's housemate was probably asleep. His cousin had forgotten to send Percy her housemate's phone number, so her housemate was probably going to be in for a big surprise in the morning. Hopefully his new housemate liked blueberry pancakes as an apology, because Percy liked to think he made some mean blueberry pancakes.

Stepping into the apartment, Percy fumbled at the walls for the light switch. He blinked as the light flooded his eyesight.

Then his senses stilled.

He had a feeling that he wasn't alone in that particular part of the apartment. The door was fully locked, so he doubted it was a thief. So he took a chance.

"Hello?" Percy called out. "Sorry for the intrusion this late at night. I'm Thalia's cousin. Um, she didn't give me your phone number..."

He strode slowly into what appeared to be the kitchen. At the far end where the sink was, there appeared one of the last person he would expect to see.

"Ms. Chase?"

The woman he had met earlier in the day took a step back and let out a deep sigh. She lowered the frying pan she had been clutching in her right hand, putting away her phone. In the hallway light, Percy could see the number "911" already pre-dialed into her cell.

"Agent Jackson." Her voice was controlled in its emotion, and he almost would have thought she was fine if he wasn't looking at her eyes. They were unflinching steel. If he hadn't been trained, he would never have caught the little flicker of fear turning into relief mixed with curiosity.

Silently, Percy cursed his cousin's negligence for the fifth time that night. Anyone would be frightened out of their minds if their door suddenly opened and a stranger entered in the middle of the night.

Annabeth's knees wobbled. Percy instinctively went forward, in case she fell like she did earlier, catching the pan before it could clatter onto the floor.

Clad now in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, Annabeth seemed much smaller than she had earlier, though still taller than the average American female height. He steadied her, breathing in the lemony fragrance from whatever shampoo or conditioner she used.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

She was warm in his arms, but he couldn't help but notice the tiniest hint of shivering. Percy loosened his grip as she stepped back.

"Doing some ate-night cooking?" He joked lightly to break the tension as he placed the frying pan safely on the counter.

"Yeah, a knuckle sandwich," she replied without missing a beat. "With a side of punch." The movement was tiny but he spotted the corners of her lips uplifting.

Well, well, well. The woman might just have a sense of humor after all. Percy's first impression of Annabeth Chase had been that of a woman who was used to having her walls up. Percy had worried that someone with a career like hers would move to break the news story of famous Silena Beauregard passing away in such dark circumstances, but she hadn't appeared to do so. No matter how aloof Annabeth Chase was, she at least seemed to be a woman with high moral standards.

"I apologize for the intrusion so late." Percy excused. "Thalia never replied after I texted her for her housemate's number, or else I would have given you a time of when I was moving in."

Annabeth didn't seem surprised, just tired. "No need to apologize. That sounds like something Thalia would do. She's probably busy preparing for her first concert in Chicago, and she broke her phone just yesterday. That's probably why she didn't answer your texts if you were texting her old phone number."

"Ah, is that so? I would have come in the morning, but uh, I got sexiled at her brother's place." Percy muttered under his breath.

"Oh, Jason?" Annabeth seemed to smile for real now.

Her sudden smile caught Percy off guard. Even with the tired circles underneath her eyes and her comfy indoor clothes, she was actually quite pretty. She could pass off as a Californian supermodel with the blonde hair and tanned skin.

"Well, um, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing, Ms. Chase. It's super late and you probably want to sleep."

"Annabeth."

"Hmm?"

Annabeth reached out her hand for Percy to receive. "Annabeth, not Ms. Chase. A little too formal for housemate, don't you think?"

Percy grinned as he shook her hand. She was warm. "Then, just Percy for me."

"Alright, Just Percy. I'll show you where Thalia's room is."

* * *

Annabeth groaned as her phone rang. Her night had been full of tossing and turning, waking up in a couple fits. But at least she had gotten some sleep.

One hand fumbled for the phone.

"Hello?"

Nothing but the sounds of someone's heavy breathing. In Annabeth's sleepiness, she accidentally pressed the end call button. Darn.

Annabeth checked her phone blearily. An unknown caller ID. Probably a wrong phone call or some scammers. She'd gotten so many phone calls insisting she had gotten reward vacations at hotels she'd never been to lately.

Turning her phone on silent and tossing her phone onto her desk, Annabeth stumbled into the kitchen only to be surprised by someone other than Thalia in her kitchen. Oh, that's right. FBI Agent Perseus-prefers-to-be-called-Percy Jackson was her new housemate in a twist of fate.

Percy was dressed differently than yesterday. No more leather jacket or the stylish brown leather shoes. He was clad in a ratty orange t-shirt and plain sweatpants, his hair ruffled and messy from sleep. She approved of his outfit choice since it matched her preferred working at home fashion.

He turned around as she entered the kitchen.

"Good morning." Annabeth greeted, searching for coffee. She was always a zombie until she had consumed at least half a cup.

"Good morning," Percy returned. "Hope you like blueberry pancakes."

Annabeth's eyes widened. Judging by the open bag of flour and egg shells, Percy had made pancakes from scratch. When had she last had homemade pancakes? At most, all she had were those from crappy box mixes. The last time...ah, yes. Her mother had made pancakes once. Chocolate chip, with maple syrup dripping over the fluffy edges. It was when Annabeth had earned her first place scientific fair award.

"Ooh, that smells heavenly."

The smell of the fruity batter sizzling as it hit the frying pan she had nearly bonked Percy with last night made her stomach grumble.

Percy's grin widened at the sound. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Black, like my soul." Annabeth quipped.

Percy grinned and poured her a cup of hot coffee. Annabeth murmured her thanks and breathed in the warm cup's fresh aroma. Mmm, caffeine. Now she could be a functioning human being again.

Annabeth allowed Percy to steer her towards the dining table.

"You should consider replacing Thalia as a housemate." She joked as she saw the dining table piled with steaming blueberry pancakes and dollops of whipped cream.

"Perhaps I should. She's terrible at cooking."

"Ugh, don't even remind me. She burned our pot just boiling pasta."

For a while, they ate what Annabeth could consider the best blueberry pancakes she ever had in New York.

"Have you found anything about what happened to Silena?" Annabeth asked lightly.

"We're still gathering evidence, looking into things." His face was unchanged but Annabeth could sense his wariness.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to publish her death. At least not before all the investigation is out and according to her family's wishes." Annabeth promised.

Annabeth had checked the news yesterday and this morning, but not a single word on Silena Beauregard's death had appeared. She assumed Silena's family was quite powerful in order to stop any leak of news until they were ready.

Percy swallowed the last bite of his pancak. "I know. You're not that type of person. I read your pieces yesterday."

"Investigating me now, Officer?"

"Just following interesting leads." Percy put his empty plate away. "Gonna head to work."

"Bye."

An interesting lead, was she? Annabeth mulled over her thoughts as she washed the dishes.

She couldn't stop thinking about Silena's death and what the model had wanted to say to her. The two of them weren't particularly close, so Silena must have wanted her for something related to her career. In particular, there was a tiny detail that was bothering her.

In the moment she had seen Silena's body, she had also gotten a glimpse of Silena's surroundings. It was only confirmed by what she had overheard some of the officers saying.

That one single empty bottle of chardonnay. Chardonnay was white wine.

_"No thanks, I don't like white wine." Silena declined the glass of wine Annabeth offered. "I'll take the red though." _

_That was a relief to her. Just looking at the red wine made Annabeth's stomach turn. Annabeth handed the merlot wine to Silena. "Why don't you like white wine?" _

_"Ugh, I think white wine is just not my style." Silena winked at Annabeth charmingly. "Red wines have higher levels of antioxidants. Gotta keep this model's body of mine healthy!" _

_"I'll take the glass of white wine." A tall, burly man stepped forward. He had the build of a NFL footballer, his dimples showing through his chocolate skin._

_"Charlie!" Silena squealed as she threw her arms around the man's neck._

Annabeth had heard that one of Silena's sisters owned a vineyard. Did one of the wines come from there? Pity she couldn't ask Percy, but she could at least let him know about it. Hmm, unless it was useless information?

She patted her pockets before realizing she had left her phone back in her bedroom. After getting her cell, she realized she had five missing calls from an unknown ID. These damn scam calls.

The cell sprang to life in her hands, still on silent mode but buzzing. Another unknown caller. How utterly annoying.

Annabeth accepted the phone call, prepared to give the caller a piece of her mind.

But there was no voice on the other end of the line. Just heavy breathing. A spark of realization hit Annabeth's intuition. This call had a sinister feeling.

"Who is this?" She asked with a growing sense of trepidation.

"Don't stick your nose in other people's businesses, you bitch!"

Then, the line went dead after a single click.

The voice was low and raspy, but Annabeth couldn't tell if the other person was female or male. She was able to gain some info from the threatening phone call however. Besides the raspy voice, there were sounds of the city. And there had been a click when the caller had hung up. Most likely, the person had used a public telephone booth so he or she could disguise their tracks.

If Annabeth hadn't received the threatening calls, she might have let the incident of Silena's death go and let the police handle the matter. But now that the caller had gotten Annabeth involved, then Annabeth would do whatever she needed to get down to the bottom of the mystery. If anything, the calls just made Annabeth more determined and pissed off rather than scared. Stubborn to a fault, her mother had once said.

Annabeth thought for a long while before picking up her phone.

"Hey, Leo. This is Annabeth. No, this is not about asking for an interview on your invention of an automatic taco maker-although you will make me tacos one night. I command it. What I wanted to ask is do you happen to have your brother's phone number?"

* * *

A/N: Currently procrastinating on writing essays by writing these stories. Can't believe it takes a pandemic for me to actually have time to update these stories... Also procrastinating on other stories by writing a new story. RIP. When will these stories be finished?

Hope y'all are holding up fine, staying home nice and safe and let me know how y'all liked this chapter!

Also, if anyone has any good recipes to try out, let me know! I love trying new types of food, and now I actually have time to make them~


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

New edits: updated the story with the proper FBI titles

* * *

Percy and Nico slowly went through the pile of reports that had come in that morning.

"Look at this, Nico," Percy said. "She tried calling someone named 'Charles Beckendorf' six times before making her last two calls."

"Charles Beckendorf?" Nico peered over the papers. "Who's that?"

Percy shrugged. What he was particularly interested in was the number of calls and text sent to Charles Beckendorf. Not to mention, the last two calls Silena Beauregard had made. One to Annabeth Chase at 11:21 pm, and one just before that to someone named Drew Tanaka that went answered.

But the ones to Charles Beckendorf had gone unanswered in the past three days. Had they had a falling out?

Percy carefully went through Silena's text records. There it seemed she and Beckendorf were lovers. Percy coughed to cover his embarrassment as he accidentally came upon several very explicit texts. But it was the most recent text exchange that Percy was the most interested in.

_S: No, Charlie, don't do it. __You'll lose everything you've ever worked for!_

_C: Not everything, I have you_

_S: That's sweet, Charlies, but I'm still worried_

_C: I have to let someone know. __I can't have this go on under me anymore. __I feel like I'm going to go crazy_

_S: ...If you think that's for the best. _

Percy scanned through the texts again, but there was no mention of specifically what Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard were going to expose. Something that both of them felt guilty for, and possibly something so dangerous that Silena Beauregard was killed for.

With a growing sense of dread, Percy began looking into Charles Beckendorf.

Apparently he was a researcher at a biomedical research company. Beckendorf had been spotted with Silena Beauregard on some tabloids, so Percy was right to guess that he and Silena were lovers. He had no arrests, even did a tour overseas as an Army solider and got discharged honorably.

So what did such an upright man do to have his lover be killed?

Percy called the number listed for Charles Beckendorf but received no responses.

"Excuse me, is Charles Beckendorf in today?" Percy asked the receptionist of Beckendorf's company.

"No, he hasn't been in today or yesterday. Boss is actually quite livid because Mr. Beckendorf didn't ask for time off beforehand," came the reply through the phone.

"Ah, I see. Alright, well, thank you for your help."

There was only one way to do it then. Percy got up and tossed the car keys to Nico who was starting to nod off.

"Get up, you lazy butt. Time for a field assignment."

* * *

Annabeth frowned as she pressed the call button for Charles Beckendorf's apartment number again. She'd been standing there for ten minutes.

"He's not here," came the raspy voice behind her.

"How do you know that?" Annabeth asked the grouchy doorman. He'd been staring at her grumpily ever since she walked into the apartment lobby.

"Mr. Beckendorf hasn't been in since last Saturday."

Annabeth counted in her head. Today was Tuesday, so Charles had been gone for three to four days. "Do you know why?" She asked the doorman.

The doorman scowled. "Why are you asking? I'm just the doorman, I don't know anything about the tenants. You young people and your lovers' spat."

"Lover's spat?" Annabeth knew there had to be something more. "Charles Beckendorf had one?"

But the doorman just grumbled, leaving Annabeth outside the apartment.

Well, that was a bust, Annabeth thought. What little info she got was that Beckendorf had not been at his apartment for a few days. If he had heard of his girlfriend's death, perhaps he was with family for support. But Leo, Beckendorf's half-brother, hadn't seem aware of Silena's death.

Don't tell me, Annabeth suddenly thought with a grimace. If Charles and Silena had an argument, could Charles have done _that _to Silena? No, he couldn't have, Annabeth hushed her own thoughts. She should't jump to conclusions without the proper evidence. The couple having an argument doesn't necessarily mean one would kill the other. How many times had she argued with her own mother, and neither of them killed each other?

But someone did murder her mother, Annabeth's inner voice reminded her snidely. Shut up, Annabeth told herself.

Sighing, she turned away from the apartment only to run into someone she did not expect to see.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth. What are you doing here?"

Percy was standing there, wearing the same leather jacket he had been wearing when they first met. Behind him was another dark-haired man with pale features. The stranger's dark eyes peered at her curiously.

"I was here to follow up on a lead, though it seems to be going nowhere." Annabeth bit her lip. She had a feeling what Percy was here for. "Are you here for Charles Beckendorf?"

"How did you know?" The stranger asked. Percy looked at her as well.

"Call it a journalist's tendency to follow up on leads and intuition." She explained the situation to them.

Percy's partner, who introduced himself as Nico, headed inside to talk to the doorman to confirm what Annabeth had said.

"You know, Annabeth, it's dangerous to do what you're doing." Percy reprimanded her. "Not to mention an overstepping of police jurisdiction."

Technically he was true. But she had a few connections to the police since her work had helped the police on many investigations. "True, but not if you're a special consultant to the NYPD. You can search that up."

Percy narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "I already saw that. Unfortunately, that liaison expired after the investigation into NY Senator Macquire expired."

"Then I'll just have to get it renewed." Annabeth said lightly.

Percy looked like he was going to say something, but then closed his mouth and shook his head. "Have you ever been told you're quite stubborn?"

"I prefer the adjective determined."

Percy sighed. Perhaps he recognized the traits of someone obstinate and decided it was more useful to go with the flow than waste time. Annabeth approved. Good for him.

"You don't think it's weird that I ventured here on a hunch about wine?" Annabeth asked curiously.

"No. Sometimes our intuition leads us down paths we never expect." He answered.

Nico came out of the apartment lobby. "Well, Charles Beckendorf hasn't come back to his apartment in a while. It would be good to call his family and ask them if they know about his whereabouts, like another apartment he has or something."

Annabeth's brows furrowed. But Leo didn't seem to know that his brother was missing. That didn't seem good for Charles' reputation currently as the situation painted him as being a suspect.

Maybe she should ask Leo about it. But upon trying to call Leo from her recent phone call list, she accidentally called Charles Beckendorf's phone number. This time, someone picked up.

"Hello?" The voice at the other end of the line was not deep as Charles.

But Annabeth didn't care about the pitch of the voice for at the same time whoever had Charles' phone picked up, a nearby teenager had answered the phone.

"Hey, you!" She called the lanky teenager. "Excuse me for a minute."

The teenager looked startled before breaking into a run away from them. Ah shit, Annabeth sighed. Before she could chase after the teenager, Percy had already reacted. Percy must have been in track and field or his military training must have been ingrained as within mere seconds, the teen was in Percy's strong grip.

"Hey, let me go! I'll call the cops on you!" The boy struggled as Annabeth jogged over.

"Unfortunately for you, I happen to be a detective." Percy said calmly. "Now where did you get this phone?"

"I didn't steal it! I just found it!" The teenager begged. "Please, please, don't arrest me. My mom is gonna kill me!"

Nico called Charles's phone number and the stolen phone lit up in the teenager's hand once more. "It's Charles Beckendorf's phone alright." Nico confirmed. "We'll get a team to look into his phone records ASAP."

Annabeth smiled a gentle smile. Bad cop, good cop would be perfect in a situation like this. Unbeknownst to Annabeth, her smile to the teenager gave him the chills. "Why don't you tell us where you picked the phone up?"

The teenager led them down a couple blocks. Percy had sealed the cell in a plastic baggie, although whatever evidence they could get from the cell's outside would probably be destroyed already from the teenager's handling.

Eventually, they came to a small street off the busy main road. There was far less traffic here which Annabeth welcomed.

"I found it here. I swear! It was just on the floor." The teen was close to tears now.

But Percy was far more interested in a nearby alleyway. Leaving Nico to take down the teen's statement, Annabeth followed Percy down the damp, smelly alleyway mindful of stepping over grime.

Suddenly Percy paused, causing Annabeth to walk into him. His back felt broad. But she could tell from the tension in his shoulders that something was very, very wrong.

Although Annabeth had only met Charles Beckendorf at the club once, she could still roughly remember the height and face of Silena's boyfriend. The same body lay behind a dumpster now, lifeless as a broken doll. Charles Beckendorf had been wearing a suit at the Underworld, now his short sleeve t-shirt revealed a scythe tattoo.

The scythe, Annabeth stared in horror.

Annabeth didn't recall too much what happened after that. The small street became alive with the bustle of police.

"Body's quite bloated. Looks like our victims been here for three to five days."

"Isn't this the second body in two days? What, is she the Angel of Death or something?" One policeman said. Perhaps it was meant for her hearing, since he was quite near.

"Hey, Asher, shut up." Percy growled.

But the words hit Annabeth hard. Was she the Angel of Death? One death was certainly something, but now there were a total of three murders in her life.

Annabeth thought of the unknown phone calls she had received earlier that morning.

"Keep your nosy ass out! You're the one responsible for anything hat happens." The low, raspy voice had screeched.

_You're the one responsible._

_You're the one responsible._

Annabeth closed her eyes.

Was she? Was she the Angel of Death?

* * *

A/N: Is this too slow-paced, y'all? I'm trying to keep the interest high, but at the same time I want to make sure I'm laying all the details, so at the end of the story, y'all can go back and catch all the little clues and details.

Some of you may be wondering, where's the M-rated parts? Hold onto your horses, my peeps, and have some patience c: If you've read my other stories, you know what caliber of M-rated stories I can write. *winks


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: I own nothing but plot. Enjoy!

* * *

Annabeth waited in the police station in a private office. The cup of crappy coffee gave her nothing in comfort except for her nervous hands to hold onto something.

"Hello, Annabeth. Remember me?"

Annabeth looked up at the friendly face peeking down at her. He had brown hair and beard as dark as a chestnut horse's, framing a kind face lined with soft wrinkles of age.

"Oh, Chiron!"

Chiron immediately accepted her hug. It had been nearly a decade since she had last seen him. Uncle Chiron was her mother's superior at work, and the one who took the main responsibility in trying to discover the truth into her mother's investigation. He looked nearly the same as he had the last time she saw him, with just a few more wrinkles from age or stress. There were streaks of gray in his formerly rich brown hair. But the eyes that twinkled down at her in warmth were the same.

"How have you been?" Chiron asked.

After the murder of her mother, Annabeth had no other family on the West Coast since her father and stepfamily lived in Virginia. Chiron had been instrumental in getting her a place to stay and looking after her until her father could come get her. Chiron even referred a therapist who had helped Annabeth cope with the loss. After Annabeth had graduated from her undergraduate studies, she had lost touch with Chiron. Who knew they would both end up on the East Coast?

"So you're the uh, Special Agent-in-Charge?" Annabeth squinted as she looked at the placard on his desk.

"Yes, sort of the chief of the FBI office here, if you will. I'm quite sorry that you got involved in this, Annabeth." Chiron said mournfully.

For a while, the two caught up for a bit. As they chatted, Annabeth felt the tiniest bit of resentment forcing its way through her walls. She thought they had vanished with time towards her mother's former supervisor, but they soon resurfaced. After all, it was Chiron who had told her that her mother's murder was attributed to home robbers. There were even two suspects captured and sentenced, but Annabeth had been sent all the way to her father's home. Not that she even wanted to attend the trial. Everything seemed like a mockery.

In her heart though, Annabeth knew what she wanted to ask Chiron about. The scythe imagery she had been seeing so often lately. Her therapist had tried so hard to convince that Annabeth had been too distraught that night and her mind had conjured shadows or blood patterns into the mark of a scythe. The silver charm bracelet was just a moon shaped charm. The tattoo was the shape of something else, and she hadn't seen the whole picture.

Try as she might, she always had a sneaking suspicion that someone in the police force at that time had conducted a cover-up. Was it the man before her?

A man poked his head into the room after he knocked. "Chiron, sir? You've got a Mr. Nam on line extension one."

Chiron sighed. "Not him again. Ah, by the way, Annabeth. This is Charon. I know, similar name. You probably don't remember him, but Charon worked in the SF force with your mother and I."

Charon stared curiously at Annabeth. Annabeth murmured an awkward hello. Besides Chiron, her mother had never introduced her to her other colleagues.

"I'm sorry about your mother," Charon said mournfully. "She was a fantastic leader and member on the force. I was just a rookie, but she looked out for me often."

Annabeth adverted her gaze from Charon's probing gaze. She was used to gazes like that. They were gazes often wondering whether she was anything like her mother, full of strength, leadership, and confidence.

Chiron patted Annabeth reassuringly on her shoulder. "Your mother would have been proud of you."

* * *

Chiron watched the sway of blonde hair disappear as she exited his office. How long had it been since he had last seen those grey eyes look at him so? Those piercing eyes, always calculating and observing, were just like her daughter's. The child had grown up well.

Sighing, Chiron leaned back into his chair. Old age was catching up to him. But it was far too early for him to retire. There was so much he had to do, so much he had to compensate for his guilt. Try as he might, he could not run away from his mistakes. The arrival of Annabeth had thrown memories back to him at full force.

He didn't deserve Annabeth's kindness. It would have been better if she screamed or threw her chair at him.

"You know what to do, right? Don't let the public hear about this mess." The voice on the other end of the line hissed. "All of our careers are on the line."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Make sure you do."

Chiron hung up and rubbed his tired eyes.

* * *

"Hey, New Agent Trainee Jackson. Heard you got two bodies." Special Agent Asher taunted. "Think you'll solve the case and get a promotion? As if that'll ever happen." The red haired man guffawed.

"Knock it off," said Supervisory Special Agent Charon sternly. "Jackson, di Angelo, I know you two have your places full with what occurred yesterday and today, but make sure to follow up on the other leads regarding the Underworld. We'll need to be vigilant as much as possible."

"Yes, sir!"

Special Agent Asher scoffed and made a nasty face as he followed their senior out the office.

"What did we ever do to Asher so he would have a stick up his ass?" Nico grumbled.

"No idea." And Percy didn't care. Insults were nothing to him. He'd faced even more harassment from his military days as a mere grunt. It would take hard work and promotions to earn the respect of others before the harassment ceased. At least his formal boss, Chiron, was pretty alright.

It was late at night when he finally returned from work. There had been Beckendorf's contacts to investigate, then he had to comb through surveillance reports of the mysterious door he had found in the Underworld last time.

As he passed by Annabeth's room, he heard the sounds of someone gasping for air and breathing heavily. Annabeth? Percy wondered.

Suddenly something crashed in the middle of the room.

"Annabeth!"

Percy wrenched open her door. He quickly scanned the surroundings to assess the situation.

Annabeth was standing on the floor. She looked up at Percy, her face turning pink in embarrassment. The glass remains of a broken cup was scattered around her.

"Sorry, I just tripped and knocked over my water." She looked absolutely mortified.

"No worries. Are you all right?"

Annabeth breathed deeply. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, um, do you mind getting me a broom from the hallway closet?"

"Hold on." She was liable to cut her fingers that way. Not to mention her feet were bare and dangerously close to the shards of glass. "Don't move and just stay there."

He quickly got the broom.

"Here I'll do it," Annabeth said as Percy swept the remains of her mug. "I'm the one who broke the mug after all."

"It's fine. I don't want you to get your feet cut."

She looked like she was going to argue but gave up as Percy finished sweeping in another stroke of the broom. He'd had plenty of practice keeping the barracks clean.

Annabeth was perched on her bed when he came back in to check for any stray pieces. Percy noticed her eyes were slightly red, as though she had been crying earlier. Her cheeks had been flushed just a few moments ago, but her face was pale.

"Bad dreams?" He asked.

She looked up at him with bleary eyes. "How did you know?"

Because he'd seen many nightmares as well, especially after that day when the trip wire had been activated. The same raw look in the eyes, the same nerves shaking in Annabeth's shoulders, he'd experienced them all. Besides, Percy figured that anyone would feel off after discovering two bodies in such a short amount of time.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her lips gave him an awkward smile. "No, I think I'm fine." Annabeth bit her lip. "But Percy..."

"Yes?"

Annabeth's grey eyes turned on him. He was getting that same sense of calculating gaze, as though she was trying to reach into his mind and read his thoughts. "If I'm allowed to know...was there a scythe-like charm on Silena's wrist? And did Charles Beckendorf have a scythe tattoo?"

Percy blinked. He hadn't been expecting her to ask that at all. A scythe? He'd gone over the case notes dozens of time but hadn't seen anything regarding a scythe. A scythe was some kind of tool used in agriculture back in the olden days, right? It couldn't have a murder weapon used in any of the two deaths.

"I do recall seeing a silver bracelet on Silena's right wrist. None of her jewelry seemed to have been stolen, so I had thought her murder couldn't have been a robbery. But I'm not sure about a scythe charm on that bracelet. As for a tattoo on Beckendorf's arm, I'll have to wait for the autopsy results to come out."

Annabeth frowned. "I saw it," she said stubbornly. "I trust my own eyes."

"Okay. Why did you ask?" Percy asked curiously.

Annabeth didn't respond for a while. "My mother," she finally said.

Percy had a feeling that there was more to the two simple words Annabeth had just said. Though the day had been tiring, Percy sat by her side on the bed and listened quietly as she recounted her childhood and her mother's murder.

"Everyone tried so hard to convince me that I was just seeing things that night. Ugh, maybe they were right." Annabeth murmured. She leaned back and flopped onto her bed. "Maybe I am going crazy."

Crazy. That had been a word Percy had heard often.

He could understand what Annabeth had been going through. After that day three years ago, everyone expected him to come back with some form of trauma. They'd even called him crazy after he turned in his own lieutenant to the higher ups because his lieutenant didn't properly follow orders to scout out their surroundings first and pushed his soldiers into danger. But what was he to do? Be loyal to his commander or be loyal to the country he served? His lieutenant's arrogance and negligence could have cost more people's lives had he gone free.

Percy found himself telling her his own story.

"Well, it's true that our mind can create flashbulb memories of something traumatic or of very high emotion events. We remember those events very vividly afterwards, and sometimes our mind can add details that weren't there originally. But it doesn't mean that we're crazy though."

Annabeth smiled wryly. "Thanks. For the record, I don't think it was wrong to turn in your lieutenant in. He was responsible for the actions he took, and he had to face the consequences. Besides, you saved a lot of lives that day."

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while.

"I'll check into the bracelet," Percy offered. He didn't know whether Annabeth was truly seeing things, but finding out the truth could be liberating.

"Really? Thanks. Maybe I'll be able to put these demons to rest after all," Annabeth said.

To be honest, Percy was quite intrigued about final decision of Athena Chase's case. Home robbers breaking into Annabeth's house? Eleven at night was early for a night robbery, and not to mention the neighbors were awake with what Annabeth had mentioned. Robbers wouldn't make an attempt like that. He was curious about how the robbers got into the house. If Chiron was a part of the investigation into Annabeth's mother's death, would Percy be able to get some info out of him? Or maybe he could access the prior case notes by looking back into the old case files.

"I'll help you however I can."

Percy looked over at Annabeth but she seemed to have fallen asleep. This close to her, he could see the shadows underneath her eyes. She looked like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. Moving carefully as to not wake her up, Percy shifted Annabeth until she was in a more comfortable position on the bed. He gently put the covers over her and hoped she didn't have any other nightmares tonight.

He went to sleep in his own bed, but something just kept on bothering him. Deciding sleep was not going to come until he satisfied his curiosity, Percy turned on the lights and booted his computer. He clicked through the case documents, carefully scanning through the contents.

Like Annabeth, he could've sworn that he'd seen a bracelet on Silena's wrist. After all, he'd had noticed that Silena's body still had jewelry and her house wasn't ransacked of its valuables, so the hypothesis of a robber accidentally killing Silena while attempting to rob her mansion had been long thrown out of the possible scenarios. But why wasn't a bracelet listed among Silena's possessions on her body on the case notes?

There were her diamond earrings, with an accompanying picture. There was a slight bloodstain on one of them where blood from Silena's gunshot wound had trickled down her head. The next page denoted her matching platinum necklace, but no bracelet was to be seen in any of the photos provided.

Percy pursed his lips. There was no way Hazel and Frank would miss such a huge thing if they were the ones taking photos and collecting the evidence. He trusted their expertise.

Perhaps the bracelet was lost during transit from the crime scene to the task force, but that would be a huge and costly mistake indeed. Besides, any pictures collected should have shown up in the case notes.

Unless the bracelet was deliberately misplaced and the photo deleted.

Percy frowned. Annabeth's story of her mother's murder had made him think that there had been a cover up by the FBI. Was someone behind pulling the strings during this time as well?

* * *

A/N: Hmm, to answer the reviewer's question whether Percy is a detective or a special agent, he is a FBI special agent (still a rookie though). I searched up the actual ranks of those in FBI to try to make the story seem a little more realistic. Anyways, thanks for letting me know your thoughts on the pacing, and hope to see y'all next chapter!


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't find it?" Percy asked through the phone.

"That's just the thing. I swear I saw a bracelet on her hand as well. There certainly was something like a crescent or scythe shape charm on it." Hazel's voice was frustrated. "But when I looked through the evidence bags, I couldn't find it."

"Do you think it was lost?"

There were some sounds of shuffling as Hazel shifted through the plastic bags of evidence.

Hazel sighed. "Gods, I hope not. Do you know how much trouble we'd be in? But the thing is, even if we we don't have the physical bracelet, we should have the pictures we took of the victim's body. But I looked through everything on the camera three times, but there wasn't even a single picture of a bracelet or Silena's wrist. Even the full body pictures don't have a good angle of her wrist. But...," Hazel paused. "I could've sworn Frank and I took more pictures than what we have right now. I recall snapping some images of the full body that aren't here now."

Percy frowned. It wasn't like Hazel and Frank, who were some of the most meticulous and detail-oriented people he had ever met, to lose such precious evidence. "Did someone accidentally delete the photos?"

"That's a possibility, but wouldn't someone speak up about it? Besides, if someone accidentally deleted pictures, wouldn't a huge chunk of pictures be gone and not a few sporadically here and there? It's almost as if...nah, that couldn't be it."

Percy could tell what Hazel was thinking. It was almost as if someone deliberately deleted those pictures. But who in the FBI unit would do that and why?

"All right, thanks Hazel. Let me know when the official autopsy results come out."

"You got it, Percy."

Percy sighed as the phone call ended on the car monitor.

"No leads?" Annabeth asked.

"None."

The two were on their way to Drew Tanaka's vineyard in Suffolk County. She had been the last person Silena had called. In addition, there was something strange that Percy and Annabeth had discovered, though Percy wasn't sure of it's significance.

Silena Beauregard had a hefty collection of wines stored in her wine cellar. But out of all the wine that Silena had, not a single red wine came from Drew's vineyard. However, the twenty or so white wine bottles all came from Drew's vineyard, including the empty chardonnay found by Silena's body. According to Annabeth, Silena preferred red wine. So why those white wines? And why were they all from Drew's vineyard?

In another hour, they soon reached the vineyard.

"Wow." Annabeth said softly.

Percy was inclined to agree with her amazement at the scenery. Fields of grape vines in neat rows covered the landscape as far as one can see. Now that it was autumn, workers were bringing in the last batches of grapes. There was a crisp chill in the air, signifying the change into winter. It was a peaceful atmosphere.

Annabeth and Percy got out of the car.

"Excuse me, is Ms. Drew Tanaka here?" Annabeth politely asked a nearby worker.

"Up there." The worked pointed to the main house. There was a dark haired woman standing by the porch.

As they approached the house, the woman gave a little yelp and quickly dashed inside. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other as the woman slammed the door.

"Um, Ms. Drew Tanaka?" Percy knocked on the door.

"Go away!" Came the muffled response.

"Please, may we talk to you?" Annabeth pleaded. "We left a message on your phone."

"No! I told you already I know nothing!" The woman said.

"Already? But we've never talked before." Percy replied.

They'd called Drew's phone earlier and had gotten no response. Fearing a situation like Silena's or Beckendorf's would occur again, Annabeth and Percy had headed to Drew's vineyard home in a rush after Drew wasn't found at her upscale New York City apartment.

A window next to the door opened a crack, and a wary face appeared after the curtains were moved apart. Objectively, Drew Tanaka was quite beautiful, just like her half-sister, though in a more haughty way in Percy's opinion. He briefly wondered how strong the siblings' mother's genes were in passing her beauty to her daughters.

"Still, I don't know you two." Drew's eyes scanned both him and Annabeth up and down through the glass.

Percy pulled out his badge closer to the window. He took note of Drew's flinching reaction as she jerked back from the window pane. "We're not anyone strange, ma'am. I'm Agent Jackson. We wanted to ask you some questions regarding your sister."

"I'm Annabeth. We met briefly at the Underworld club, remember?"

Drew hissed. "Don't even mention that club!"

Percy and Annabeth exchanged glances. "What do you mean, Ms. Tanaka?" Percy asked.

"You want to know? Investigate that club instead of bothering innocent people like me!" Drew said indignantly. She stared at Annabeth. "You shouldn't go there anymore if you know what's good for you."

"Why, what's wrong with the club? Have people been bothering or threatening you?" Annabeth said.

Drew bit her lip and a frightened expression came over. "I'm keeping my lips sealed. You saw what happened to Silena after she was planning to talk..."

"About Silena, you were the last person she called though you didn't pick up. Do you know why?"

The black haired woman shook her head. "Just go away, okay? P-please. I don't want any more trouble."

"Is someone threatening you? We could offer you protection-"

Drew scoffed. "Police protection? That's worthless. I'd be dead in less than a week. You should look into your own force first."

Percy was already beginning to have dark thoughts after his conversation with Hazel. Drew seemed to implying that there was a mole or someone suspicious on the police or FBI force. And indeed, since Hazel was sure about seeing a bracelet on Silena's body, then only someone on the police force could have accessed the gathered evidence to take out the bracelet and even delete the pictures out of the camera.

"Please, whatever information you have can help tremendously. We're going to catch your sister's killer, no matter what. But we need your help," Annabeth implored.

"Why should I care about her?" Drew muttered.

Percy got the feeling that Drew Tanaka was not close to her half-sister.

"Did you know that Silena doesn't like white wine?" Annabeth asked.

Drew blinked at her. "Of course. That's why I send her white wines all the time."

"What? Why would you do that?"

A shrill laugh escaped from the woman's mouth. "Oh please. Silena and I disliked each other the moment we learned of each other's existence. Why would I send her wines she liked?"

Percy recalled the empty chardonnay bottle next to Silena's body. "Is this a bottle from your brand?" He pulled up the picture of the chardonnay on his phone.

"Yeah, so?"

"It was found next to her body." Percy said. "She may have been drinking your wine."

Drew's dark eyes glared. "Silena absolutely hates white wine. There's no way she'd be caught drinking that bottle, no matter how high quality my product is."

"It's possible that the killer grabbed a bottle of the chardonnay without realizing Silena wouldn't drink white wine when he was trying to make it look like Silena was drunk." Annabeth said to Percy.

He had come to a similar conclusion as her. "The killer must not know Silena well then." Percy murmured.

"Are you done asking questions?" Drew seethed. "My life is in danger the more I talk to you guys."

"One last question." Annabeth took a deep breath. "What do you know about a scythe symbol?"

Percy was worried. So far, he wasn't sure how the scythes connected in the case. But when dots appeared twice, they were a coincidence. But now that they appeared three times, a scythe in Annabeth's mother's death, and now two scythes in their current case, Percy wasn't so sure things were coincidental any more.

Drew's eyes went dark and fearful. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

It was obvious she was lying. "Ms. Tanaka, we need your help. Any info or clue is worth looking into."

The woman peered nervously through the window. "Kronos. That's what you should look into the scythes for."

"Kronos? The Titan who ate his own children?" Annabeth wondered.

"I've said enough."

Drew slammed the window closed. The curtains were pulled closed promptly after.

After a few minutes of trying to get Drew to come out, Annabeth and Percy had no choice but to leave the vineyard.

The ride back into the city was full of hypotheses and theories.

What was it that Drew, Silena, and Charles Beckendorf had found out? What was the secrets that had gotten two to be murdered, and a third nearly in hiding? And who or what was Kronos?

There were a couple things to be sure of though. The Underworld was connected and there was an information leak in the police enforcement. But who could it be?

Percy's mind immediately went to Asher and his rude ass. Perish that thought, Percy told himself firmly. Just because Asher is an asshole doesn't mean he's unscrupulous. There's no proof that Asher's the mole out of all the agents.

"So," Percy asked Annabeth. "How do you feel about going clubbing tonight?"

* * *

A/N: To the reviewer who asked what time I update on Sundays and Wednesdays, I'm sorry, I don't really have a set time because I have to manage between a full time job and other things. I know that we all have different time zones as well, so the stories may update Mondays and Thursdays for you.

Honestly I was gonna do a troll chapter cuz April 1 is April Fool's Day, but then I ran out of time XD

Anyways, stay safe and STAY HOME.


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